Point Set and Match
by JazzieLouise
Summary: The Doctor is left stranded after his Tardis stops working for some inexplicable reason, leaving him trapped on modern day Earth. This means he has to lay low till he can sort it out, of course, the Doctor can't 'lay low.' Throw in a Miss Gwilt-Grenden, a sassy, witty graduate who doesn't want to deal with any of the 10th Doctor's crap, and you've got yourself a funny sight.
1. Chapter 1

I was just a girl, twenty five years old, fresh out of university, with no real idea what I was going to do with the rest of my life; looking for somewhere to live on the cheap whilst I decided on a course for the rest of my existence. He was an alien, a Time lord, looking for somewhere to lie low whilst he was stuck on this planet because his mode of transport, his Tardis had broken down.

Of course I didn't know any of this stuff when I first met him.

Us meeting each other and getting a place together happened in the usual way. A friend of a friend knew someone who also needed a housemate and a place on the cheap.

I arrived late, a hot mess, and he was already there pacing back and forth. He was tall, at least six foot, and he had this mess of brown hair on top of his head that seemed to defy gravity. He had a really impressive set of sideburns. He was dressed in a slimming brown pinstripe suit with a long billowing brown coat that he was currently throwing casually over the back of a couch, as if he had already claimed the apartment as his own space.

As I entered the living room and the landlady started telling me stuff about the place, the stranger spun around on his toes and I noticed, in either awe or shock (who knows which) that he was wearing white converse shoes with his expensive looking suit.

"Well, hello there fellow roomie." He held out his hand as his bright deep brown eyes met mine. From appearances only, he seemed to be in his early thirties, but his eyes seemed older than that. He flashed a smile and gave a slight cock of his head which showed off his impressive jawline and sharp, high cheekbones. "It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm John. John Smith." He held out his hand as he spoke.

I met his hand with mine. "Um, nice to meet you, but I've only just got here, not too sure if I'm ready to commit just yet. I want to have a look around first."

The landlady watched this exchange with evident confusion displayed on her features. She didn't even bother to try and hide it.

His facial expression changed to disbelief for a spilt second; widened eyes, mouth dropped open a little bit and then he composed himself remarkably quickly. "Of course," he was saying as if this was completely obvious. "Of course, continue on, browse, view, observe." He gestured with his hands. "All the crucial stuff is here; kitchen for making tea, gotta have tea, the living room, for well, living and bedrooms with beds for sleeping." He cracked another bright smile.

"R-Right." The landlady gestured with her hand, "if you'd like to come this way Miss Gwilt-Grenden."

The strange man whistled as he leaned against the back of the couch, lanky legs crossed at the ankles and arms folded across his chest. "What a last name you've got there."

I stared blankly at him, not entirely sure how to respond to such obvious rudeness.

He gestured to the living room. "Go on, Miss Gwilt-Grenden, go and view the property."

I deigned not to respond to his last remark, kind of annoyed that he now knew what my last name was, despite how I avoided telling my name after he gave me his. He was acting as if he knew it got to me too, which was really bugging me.

I was shown into the living room where there was a lovely silver, black and white colour scheme going on. There was a lovely black leather sofa with a silver plush throw covering it, a fireplace with a flat screen TV above the mantel, some beautiful dark oak bookcases and a matching table with gorgeous black wallpaper with silver flowers sprawling across it with white and black leaves.

The kitchen, which I was shown next, was quite spacious and well stocked with a decent fridge, a tumble dryer and a washing machine, but there was no dishwasher though. It came complete with every cooking implement under the sun, which more than made up for the lack of a dishwasher.

There was a very small toilet on the bottom floor. Everywhere I walked was laminate flooring and I enjoyed listening to my heels clicking lightly against the floor as I went.

Next, I was shown upstairs. "Up here," the landlady was saying, "are two good sized bedrooms and a decent sized bathroom." I was shown the bathroom first, the colour scheme this time was soft shades of silver and cream, and there was a beautiful claw footed bathtub with a shower that looked very recently fitted. One of the new, high powered ones. My hand subconsciously went to my long wavy dark brown almost black hair as I thought about how nice it would be to wash my hair under such a lovely, powerful shower head.

In my daydreaming, I didn't realise that the landlady had moved along the corridor and left me in the doorway of the bathroom, I also didn't realise that Mr Lanky had decided to bless us with his presence on the second floor.

The landlady turned to face us both. "As Mr Smith knows, there are two decent sized rooms. You'll have to decide between the two of you which room you want, if you were both to sign on, that is." The landlady added on the end, mostly for my benefit it seemed, as I was the only one here who was clearly reluctant, Mr Lanky here was clearly pretty decided already.

The first bedroom had laminate flooring, several shades darker than the rest of the house and a large beige rug on the floor. The walls were a matching beige and all of the furnishing was a dark, beautiful wood with gold handles on the drawers. There was a desk with a computer office chair in front with a beautiful dark wood mirror set up on the wall above the desk. My eyes lit up at the amount of draws on the desk. There was a lovely side cabinet with an antique lamp, a couple of framed pictures of black and white flowers, a couple of house plants and a window that started on the floor of the room and went at least six feet up. In the middle of the room, positioned on the rug was a double bed with the same dark wood frame with two big fluffy pillows and a couple of dark brown plush pillows.

The second room had a slightly different colour scheme going on. The floor was a lighter shade, not as light as it was downstairs, all the furnishing was a light brown with elements of wicker woven in, the walls were also beige but I was put off slightly by the bright blue curtains and the mix of blue and white pillows on the bed. It had its own TV though, which was a plus, no desk though, which was a negative.

Without me realising it, John Smith had gotten inside the doorway and he leaned in to talk to my ear and I felt his breath on my bare shoulder. "Feel free to pick which one you want, I'm not really fussed about which one I get, I don't sleep much. And, I happened to see the way you were eyeing up the desk in the other room."

I started and took a step forward into the room and spun around, as if I was admiring it, rather than getting away from him.

"I think I'm very interested, Barbara." I said as I maintained eye contact with Mr Lanky.

"R-Right, well I could do with knowing definite answers from the both of you as soon as possible, because of the situation and the price, there's quite a few people interested in this place."

 _Why should I let Mr Smith make me feel awkward about moving into a place that's literally perfect for me? It's close to town, it's ridiculously cheap, with really nice good sized rooms and a well stoked kitchen, not to mention the fact that the contract is ran monthly on a rollover scheme. So, if I decided I'd had enough after a month, I could leave with no qualms, or, if I find a decent job elsewhere, it means I can pack up and go with no trouble. And, I can take Mr Smith up on his offer and get the other room._

"I'm in." We both said at the same time with our eyes locked on each other. He raised an eyebrow at me as he stood there leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. I raised the opposite eyebrow as I regarded him coolly with my hip cocked and my hand upon it.

John Smith went from being all serious and staring me down to light hearted in a second flat. He let out a small chuckle, gave me a massive smile, clapped the landlady on the shoulder and went off bounding down the stairs with an energy that I don't believe I've ever seen from a thirty year old before. "I'll get my money!" He called over his shoulder.

Me and the landlady both looked at each other and shrugged and I couldn't help the small smile that crept its way across my features. Barbara popped open a plastic wallet and pulled out a contract. I read it through as Smith came bounding back upstairs with a huge wad of notes in his hand. He flipped through them at lightning speed and passed them over to Barbara. The poor lady looked bewildered. "There you are. The deposit and first month's rent, it's all there. That's all that."

The landlady handed over his own copy of the contract. He stared at it for a second as if he didn't register what it was. He blinked and then said, "ah yes, of course." He pulled out a pair of glasses and flicked through the contract as quickly as he flipped through his notes earlier. He pulled a pen out of his pocket, scribbled some gibberish on it and handed it back. "So, that's all that then? Have I reached the point where I can go and starfish on the bed?"

"Eh?" Barbara was evidently flustered and she routed around in her pocket and pulled out a set of keys and handed them over. "Well, if that is what you wish to do Mr Smith, then by all means, do so, I can't stop you, not now you've paid."

John gave a chuckle and a thousand watt smile and ran past me, who was still stood just inside the room and he jumped atop the bed backwards in a true starfish pattern.

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped from behind my hand.

His head shot up. "Is that a laugh that I just heard from you, Miss Gwilt-Grenden?"

"Perhaps." I said coolly as I continued reading through the contract.

"Well, now that we're going to be roommates after all, how about we get on a first name basis?"

I waved my pen in the air. "Not quite, Mr Smith," I said very deliberately "We don't need to be on a first name basis just yet."

"Aww, why not?" He said, sounding a bit like a kicked puppy.

"Because I haven't decided one hundred per cent whether I want to stay here just yet." I waved the paper in my hands. "Haven't signed the contract yet."

"Come on, you can't fool anyone, we all know you're going to take the room. Let me know your first name." He folded his hands beneath his head and crossed his legs over each other in mid-air.

I was stunned. "W-What makes you say that?"

He made eye contact with me again. "Well, you could just call it a hunch. Or a very good guess, both work really." He jumped up from the bed and maintained eye contact with me as he marched on over and stopped just shy of a foot in front of me.

"You're a very recent graduate, possibly from some kind of English degree looking for somewhere cheap to stay because you can't go back home and you are after a place exactly like this because you don't currently have any direction for your life and you want somewhere that you can cut yourself loose from relatively quickly."

I spun around in spite because he'd pretty much hit the nail on the head. I pushed the contract against the wall with one hand and pulled my pen from the bun on the back of my head and as my hair fell down; my hand was on the page, signing away my name in full sight of the curious man next to me.

He held his hand out after I'd handed the contract to Barbara. "Let's try this again, Miss Elizabeth Gwilt-Grenden. I'm John Smith. It's a pleasure to meet you."

I met his hand. "The pleasures all mine, Mr John Smith. If that's even your name in the first place." _Point set and match._ I thought to myself as I pulled out the edge of my skirt and went down in a half curtsy, before fluidly dropping his hand and spinning around in the curtsy to come to my full height in front of Barbara. "Can I please have your bank details? I work through online banking."


	2. Chapter 2

Once all that was done, Barbara excused herself, citing the reason for her departure as wanting to leave us alone to get acquainted, when the reality of the situation was that she sensed the awkwardness and wanted to remove herself from the situation post haste. Which I believe was a smart move on her side.

"So, pray, do explain how you came to your deduction earlier, Mr Sherlock Holmes." I spoke up after the door had closed.

"Simple really," he answered as he made his way into the kitchen and out of sight.

I followed him.

"And by the way," he poked his head round the doorway, straight into my face. He didn't seem to mind the proximity and continued right on. I was too stubborn to move myself. "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle would've liked me, I reckon, if I had of gotten round to meeting him, I was busy, unfortunately." He looked puzzled at the look I was giving him. He then seemed to realise the extent of what he just said.

"Never mind that, the deduction," he moved back around inside the kitchen and I walked into the space that he'd just vacated and watched him muddle around with tea stuff. "I say student, for two reasons. One, you're clearly looking for somewhere on the cheap, and two, despite how smart you're dressed, on closer examination, you're clothes aren't from the high end of the market."

I was fuming. "Are you trying to call me cheap?!" I composed myself quickly. "Excuse me?"

The man blinked at my outburst but continued on completely unfazed. "I'm not calling you cheap, I'm calling you sensible. You know how to get good looking clothes at a good price." He cracked a smile, "was that a good enough save for my social blunder?"

"Sufficient."

"Moving on. I say English degree because of how you was eyeing up the desk, only someone who was on an arts degree would look at a table like that. I say writing specifically, because of the pen you had in your hair."

"What about you saying that I couldn't go back home? And the whole 'no direction' thing?"

He poured boiling water into two cups with teabags already in them. "Well, you are clearly quite well composed and you hold yourself very well, which gives the impression that you're someone of business. Yet, you turned up late." He shrugged. "Could mean very little, but people of business are usually very punctual. Just a hunch, but that suggests that you're not familiar with the area." He turned around to face me again as he leaned against the counter. "Which means, you choose this place on the fly, pretty last minute. I already ascertained earlier that you were a graduate, and usually graduated students go straight back home, you didn't, which implies that you can't go back."

"Right." I said simply, trying not to convey how accurate he was through my voice. "There's still something missing."

"Yes. Sugar?" He said as he turned to the fridge and pulled out a small carton of milk.

"One please."

"I say no direction," he began as he handed me a cup of tea and I nodded my thanks. "Simply because if you knew what you were doing with your life, the fact that you couldn't go back home wouldn't have made much difference for you, because you would have already planned on what you were doing, with a place to live already lined up. You're here instead, which means you have no idea what you're doing with your life. That must be terrifying."

I clutched the cup he'd put inside my hand even tighter because the spilt second of silence that followed after his last statement nearly had me drop my cup.

"You're sure a strange one, Mr Smith." I said after a minute.

He cocked his head and looked at me in confusion.

"I'm pretty sure that John isn't your real first name, but I can't quite figure out if Smith is genuine either. It's better than John at any rate." I dropped my gaze and swirled the contents of my cup around and up to the rim of the dainty china. "And you say bizarre things too, like saying you could have met Sir Arthur Conan Doyle if you weren't too busy, despite the fact that he died in 1930 and you don't look any older than thirty three."

I looked up after a minute to find him just staring at me in shock. He composed himself quickly. "Well, I say lots of weird things, it's best to ignore half the stuff I say. It's all nonsense."

"Right…" I said as I deliberately dragged out the word to show how much I believed what I was saying. "I'm only picking you up on these things in the first place, because you did the same thing with me." I took a long swig from my cup and maintained eye contact with him over the cup. "So, the issue with your name, am I right or not?"

He walked past me. "I'm interested in the books that are in the bookcase; want to take a look Elizabeth?"

"No point trying to avoid me, John, we're stuck here for a month, at least."

He spun around on the spot and came very close. "How about you explain how you know these things instead?" He said with more venom than I thought was necessary.

"It's simple, as you like to say, you don't look any older than thirty three, as I already said. You're not really old enough to be a John, I could be wrong, but it's just unlikely for your real name to be John. I mean, if you were in your early forties rather than early thirties then maybe it'd wash."

The seriousness was gone in an instant. "Do I really look thirty three?"

I nodded.

"Interesting." His attention span for me had gone out the window and he was soon immersed in the book shelf next to us.

"Am I wrong?"

"Nah," he said off-handily as he put his glasses on. "You're close enough."

"How old do you think I am?"

"Excuse me?" I seemed to have caught him off guard.

"Guess my age."

"Twenty two."

"Thank you."

"What?" He stood up and took off his glasses and peered into my face. "I swore I was right."

"Twenty five."

He raised an eyebrow. "Fair enough, Elizabeth. You win there."

"It's not fair."

"What's not?"

"You get to use my name so casually and yet you won't even tell me your real name, despite how open you wanted to portray yourself earlier."

He sighed and then gave a sad smile. "You're a tough one. I've got it hard here, haven't I?" He chuckled to himself and moved across the room to the other book shelf.

"What do you mean?"

"I just needed somewhere to lay low for half a year or so and look at how much trouble I'm already in." He sighed.

"Trouble? You're confusing me."

"You're suspicious of me. You're wary. Those are two things I was supposed to be avoiding."

"Just tell me your name, that's the only real reason why I'm suspicious."

He shook his head again. "So that's why she landed here then. Cheeky and crafty right till the end."

"What?"

"You know earlier, how I was saying I talk nonsense?"

"Yeah."

"I'm doing it again. Pay no attention."

"Right then?" I muttered again.

But 'John' either didn't hear me, or he choose to completely ignore me, because the next moment had him pulling on his huge coat and dashing out the door.

Whilst he was out, doing God knows what, God knows where; I set about getting a hold of my stuff and starting the long drawn out process of unpacking my things. For now, I only unpacked the things I needed, leaving the rest of it in boxes under my bed, so that if I wanted to move out after the first month was up, it'd be pretty easy to get up and go.


	3. Chapter 3

It has been about two weeks since me and John have been living together and I'm not any less suspicious of him. Some of the stuff he throws out really isn't normal. He just comes out with absolute nonsense and when I give him a look that suggests that I think he's kinda mental, I'm the one who gets looked at funny.

Despite all of this though, I can't help but realise that I'm kinda attracted to him; which is really weird when you consider the fact that I can't trust him. At this point, I'd trust him about as far as I could throw him. But he's smart, he's really intelligent. He's very versed in classical literature and that is something that as an avid reader and writer that I can really get behind. The amount of times we've been talking for hours and hours in a row, until the early hours of the morning, is unreal.

He challenges me in ways that I've never experienced before. I thought I was quite an open minded person and able to look outside the box to solutions for problems, but in comparison to him, my knowledge is so minuscule. He also has this boundless energy and spirit that sometimes it does serve to tire me out, but a lot of the time, it's very energising and can really serve to motivate me and get me working on my projects.

He's travelled a lot too, and that's something I'm very much interested in. He's been to Japan and I'm _so_ jealous of that. Being used to travelling constantly might be the reason why he can never sit still and constantly needs to be doing something.

I unlocked the door and took off my heels before padding across the laminated flooring in search of my slippers. The second I'd slipped them on, the fire alarm started going off. I sighed; this was the third time this week. I grabbed the broom and went to press the button, but just as my hand had curled around it, John Smith came bounding out the kitchen and reached up and turned it off.

"If I had of had my heels on, I could've got that."

"Well," he flashed me a smile "I'm tall enough on my own, I don't need shoes to reach it." To make his point, he wiggled his feet that had odd socks on them, as usual.

I sighed. "Well, that's just not fair." I let go of the broom. "And what a welcome home that was, that's the third time this week, John Smith."

"Well, I'm sorry Elizabeth Gwilt-Grenden." He made a point of clearly enunciating the entirety of my name. "I was frying bacon and forgot to open the window."

I ran a hand through my hair. "You're a nightmare."

"I know." He winked and I felt something twist inside. "I'll make it up to you. I'm doing pasta bake; it'll be ready in twenty. You've got time for a quick shower and to get changed."

"Aye aye Captain." I said as I spun around and went up the first step. My slipper slipped across it though and I felt myself stumbling. I lost the fight with gravity and felt myself falling. I felt hands at my waist, steadying me.

I blushed. "T-Thank you, John."

He took a slipper straight off the bottom of my foot. He looked it over then hit me on the back of the head with it. "You need to get yourself some better slippers, Gwilt."

"Indeed," I took the slipper from him and took the other one off as well before throwing them into the bin. "Perhaps I will."

"Right, well, because of that slip up, you now have fifteen minutes, get a move on."

I jumped in and out of the shower in record timing and spun around to my wardrobe, I threw my hair up into a quick ponytail as I tried to decide what I was going to wear. In the end, I settled on some comfy leggings and a long baggy t-shirt. I played around with my hair a little, so it still looked cute and framed my face, despite the messy bun. I then padded down the stairs just in time to be handed a plate of pasta as I reached the bottom of the stairs.

"What impeccable timing you have there."

"I could say the same to you." I took the plate from his hand. "Thank you."

I then followed him into the living room. Whilst we were eating dinner, we sat there discussing _Jane Eyre._ He hadn't read it, so I lent it to him the other day, as I was very shocked as the only thing he'd read by the Bronte sisters was _Wuthering Heights._ Which is a great novel, don't get me wrong but I thought that he should also experience something by Charlotte Bronte.

We were discussing how Charlotte Bronte's novel quite clearly reflected events of her own life and how Emily Bronte's novel _Wuthering Heights,_ did not seem to reflect much of the author's own life. We were talking about the reversal role present in Emily Bronte's work, when my phone started to ring.

I checked the display. "Sorry John, it's a co-worker, I should probably take this."

He nodded and made a hand gesture to suggest I go ahead.

"Hello Callum, what is it?"

I could see John supressing laughter at how formal my voice had become since answering the call. He had his legs on the chair and both hands covering his mouth but I could see from his eyes how much he was laughing on the inside. I glared at him and gestured to my eyes with two fingers to show him that I was watching him. He managed to be serious for all of two seconds before his hands flew back to his mouth.

"Dinner? As in a date?" I said immediately to his proposition. He was being incredibly shy and I needed to clarify what exactly he was saying. "I've just eaten, I'm afraid. This has come at very short notice." I listened for a while longer. "I could go for a drink with you, if you'd like." After a couple more minutes, we said goodbye.

"What on Gallifrey was up with your voice?"

"Excuse me? Gallifrey?"

His eyes widened for a second and then he waved an incredibly dismissive hand. "Never mind that. You totally put on a posh voice."

"I'm a woman of business, what did you expect?"

"You work at the bottom of an editing company."

"…So?"

"So, there's no need to put on such ridiculous airs."

I just pouted and started gathering up the dishes.

"It's okay, I can sort that, go get ready for your date."

"Nah, you cooked for me. I deliberately set a time to meet so that I can wash up first."

A little while later, I had finished washing up and I was getting into a nice black dress to go and meet Callum for a drink. I'd managed to get the dress up, just past my bra, but I couldn't get the zip the rest of the way up. I finished getting ready and headed back down the stairs because I hadn't heard Smith move from the living room.

"Erm, John?" I asked as I leaned over the banister so just my head was visible from the living room.

"Yes?" He said as he jumped to his feet.

I swear this man has way too much energy.

"I know this is a little awkward, but I can't reach up to get the rest of the zip. I injured my arm the other day, could you give me a hand?"

"Yeah, sure." He came over and I moved my hair out of the way.

I couldn't help the slight flush of heat on my cheeks as I felt him pinching the dress together before gently zipping it the rest of the way up.

"T-Thanks a bunch."

"It's no problem." He leaned against the banister. "So, where are you going on this date then?"

"Just to the pub downtown, it's only a twenty minute walk away, it's the closest one for both of us."

He patted the banister railing and shot me a massive smile. "Well have fun! Go break a leg!" He looked really confused for a second, "no, no, hold up. That's drama you say that for."

I carefully moved his hand as it was blocking my way from getting down the last stair. "Sorry John, I need to go, or I'm going to be late."

He nodded, "of course, of course, go and have fun." He shot me a bright smile.

I couldn't help but be a tiny bit annoyed about how he didn't seem to care at all about the idea of me going on a date with someone else. Despite the inner turmoil I was facing, I gave him a smile of my own and set off out the door.

The date ended up being very awkward, we both admitted that we got along during work and worked together well as a team, but outside of work, we didn't have much in common. Callum didn't really have any interests outside of work and that was fine, but when I was trying to talk about my interests, he just wasn't bothered and was barely paying attention. So after we'd finished a couple of drinks, we said our goodbyes and said we would see each other on Monday at work.

It was about eleven pm at this point and I left the pub and started making my way home. After a little while of walking, I realised I was being followed. I deliberately took several awkward turns, thinking that surely I was just being paranoid and maybe they weren't following me, specifically. But no, they were still following me and at this point I was still a good ten minutes away from home because it was all up hill on the way back.

I started panicking and reached for my phone, trying to make it look as natural as possible. I phoned Smith. It took a little while, but eventually he picked up.

"Hey Gwilt, what's up?"

"Where are you? Are you running late? I'm nearly there now." I tried making the conversation as natural as I could as I knew that my pursuer might be able to hear me. But I also desperately needed John to catch on that something wasn't right. _Please John, you're clever, you can read deeper. I need you._

"Right. I'm gathering you're in some kind of trouble. I'm leaving now. Hold on, Elizabeth."

"Okay." I replied and I heard the line go dead.

Two minutes later, I heard someone running down the road. Since it was dark, it took a while before I could make out John Smith running down the street with his white converse hammering into the road and his long coat billowing out behind him.

As he reached my side, I saw him look over my head, before he turned around, took my arm in his and started walking us both up the road.

"Sorry for being so late." He made an effort to say.

"That's okay, thanks for meeting me."

A few seconds later, we both heard whoever had been following me, turn off and head back downtown.

Once John had declared the coast clear, I fell against a nearby lamppost and tried to steady my frantically beating heart. I rested my hands on my legs in a desperate effort to steady them and to try and get them to stop shaking so hard.

"Liz, are you okay?" I felt John rest a concerned hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah." I said as I took in a deep breath. "I'm okay, just a bit shaken up. I was so scared, that was terrifying."

He wrapped his arms round my back and pulled me into a hug and I buried my face in the crook of his neck. "Thanks so much for coming down. I'm really glad you understood something was up."

He hugged me tighter and rested his head on top of mine as he rubbed circles on my back with his knuckles. "I think this is the first time I've ever seen you lose composure, Gwilt-Grenden."

I couldn't help the small chuckle despite myself. "Yeah, I guess so."

He pulled away and took my arm in his again and gave me a small smile. "Let's get home."


End file.
